


What She Became

by TheReadingNook17



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, BAMF Rose Tyler, Bad Wolf, Bad Wolf Bay, Bad Wolf Rose Tyler, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Friendship, Immortal Rose Tyler, Lost Love, Multi, Protective River Song, Time Lord
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheReadingNook17/pseuds/TheReadingNook17
Summary: In a world trapped in his own, always saving him, always protecting him, but he never knew she was there.
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald, Eleventh Doctor/River Song, Eleventh Doctor/Rose Tyler, River Song/Rose Tyler
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	1. I Can See You

He took her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his fingers in the gentlest of caresses. His eyes bore into hers, finally seeing her in ways she had only dreamed. He toward over her like a god, leaning into her, forehead pressed to hers, desperate to touch her.

“I always see you,” he whispered, “even when you think I can't.”

She smiles coyly at him. And when he kisses her it was the goodbye they couldn't bare to say. He lets her go slowly. His hands lingering in her hair, his eyes memorizing every inch of her face. She is the only figure in the room he sees, nothing else can distract him. He doesn’t waste a moment and memorizes her smile, how her eyes brighten as she whispers his name, his real name. And then as if the weight of the universe weighs down upon him, he tears away from her for the last time.  
She fades away slowly, and he doesn't look back, but he knows when she is finally gone, knowing it is forever. He goes about of what lingers of the day, masking his misery from his companion. He saves the world, again and again, never once looking back. He knows he should stash the memories of his wife somewhere hidden in the essence of his mind, away from himself to stop the pain. But he brings out the memories from time and time again marveling and in awe of each thought. It gives him strength because she had given him strength, but now she was gone, and it takes what little strength he has to remain in control. He sees her lovely face, her mouth cocked in that arrogant smirk he had learned to love so dearly, then shoves the memory into the far back of his mind; under lock and key. No matter how great the loss, the pain never lessened, yet he hides it well, even from himself.

With a final last stand, and the memory of her still fresh in his mind, he seizes the day and conquers the darkness that plagues the world he strives to protect. He is the Guardian Angle of the universe his companion tells him. She oftentimes thinks of him as a quirky god that lives in a box. But even she knows that any savior, no matter how pure, is plagued by darkness. Even if it is a little, the wicked darkness is there, for every hero has his demons.  
However, not all demons that plague him were his own, for there was a silent horror that neither of them could see. She often wonders, if the savior of the universe needs a savior as well, and sometimes fancies herself that she is his savior, yet she knows she is not enough.  
She sees him weep behind his facade of dishonest gaiety, and wonders what could make this god weep, for she never knew of his wife. She stands with him, watching as he presses every button he could reach, while babbling some nonsense she could never understand, but she knows he is fighting hard to distract himself.  
She feels a cold presence shift beside her and she shivers when an ice tipped hand caresses her cheek. However, as soon as it came, the fearful cold vanishes as if it never were, and she dismisses it without a thought.

They don't know of the demons that plague them both. They never notice how close they come to deaths open doors. They never notice the figure that stands in the darkest of shadows. A creature who's eyes gleam a dull gold in the dark, her face firm and cold. They can not see this mysterious creature, this unknown savior. They are oblivious to the demons that threaten to tear them apart. And when they turn their back she is there to deliver them from the demons deathly touch.  
She was there when he had kissed his wife goodbye, then watches as the woman vanishes from sight. The knowledge that the woman is gone seems to weaken the man everyone seems to call the Doctor. But she remains in the shadow, knowing he would pick up the pieces where they had fallen and replace them best he could.  
She watches him as he saves the world, and in return she saves him from the invisible demons which always seem to cling to him like poison vines.

She is his guardian angel.

She remains in the shadows, never daring to show her face; knowing full well he could never see her even if she wanted him to.  
She watches his companions come and go, sees the hurt and pain it causes him when they leave. She sees him marry the strange woman with wild hair, and it is only then does she feel something stir irritably in her chest.  
He goes to a planet and has a picnic with his companion, she hears him laugh and watches out of the corner of her eye as they bask in the sun, unaware of the demons that crawl on their bellies, reaching toward them on the grassy meadow. She fights them off while the man and his companion bask in the bliss of the sun, oblivious to her screams as a demon claws at her face.

She lies on the grass close enough to hear him laugh while she heaves with exhaustion, blood trickling down her temple and gashes in her side. A delicious cool breeze dances across the grass, cooling her heated face. Birds sing high in the sky, and the companion pours herself a bubbly drink that makes bubbles pop out of her mouth when she laughs. The creature's wounds stitch themselves back together with quick precision, and though her skin erases all traces of a battle, she still feels the ragged gashes reaching deep and tearing apart her iron mask.  
She feels the raging monster living within her stir and she fights to remain in control. The monster howls with fury at the resistance, but she grits her teeth, and pushes the beast back into his cage. She sits with them and watches with invisible eyes as they enjoy a day that is peaceful and pleasant, and all the while she fights away the dark demons.

On good days, she sits lazily on the railing of the TARDIS, watching as he tries to explain a complex object to his skimpy companion. Her mouth twitches in a half smirk as he rambles on and never noticing his young companion quietly leaving the room. He continues on his little rant even when he finally notices he is alone. He is missing someone, she realizes abruptly. She wonders who this person is, and wonders, if not for a moment, if she was the one he missed.  
She hides in the shadows even though he can never see her; however, she wonders at his companion. This companion of his seems different than the rest.  
Once a demon had reached out to the girl with bloody claws, and at that instant she turned and her face paled as if she sensed an evil darkness near by. She leapt from her seat to save the companion, and with golden eyes flashing fire the demon melted away with a scream of agony. And when she turned, the companions' eyes rested on her as if in recognition, as if she could see past the invisible barrier and could see the creature with golden eyes. She stiffened and stared back at the companion with hard eyes. The breath caught in the young girls throat, but her eyes soon become shadowed and they wondered away as if realizing she was being a silly fool to be scared of the thin air.  
And ever since that moment the companion, Clara was her name, seemed to since her when ever she stood close by. Clara's eyes would wonder over to her and stare for a moment too long.  
Once the Creature reached out and slid a finger down her arm. Clara stiffened, then gasped in surprise at the ghost like touch.

It was a test.

Clara could since the Creature, but she still remained blind to the invisible world around her.


	2. No Longer Remember

One day, a day that turned into one of those 'run for your life' kind of days, Clara and her Doctor were locked inside a room with no door. How one could firstly run into a room with no door and to be locked inside it was a mystery to them both. For they had simply run down a dark alleyway, then run straight into a brightly lit room with nothing inside, save for some wires and cables dangling from the walls and ceiling. How long they were there, Clara lost track of time. Having banged on every wall of the room, running her hand over every inch of each wall, while hoping for a secret trigger to let them out, to resulting to no avail. She slumped to the ground and watched tiredly as the Doctor swiped his screwdriver over the walls and cables, while he muttered to himself. He was lost in his own world, absorbed with finding the key of escape. His mind whirled with excitement with this puzzle, and so fascinated was he when the beep of the screwdriver revealed a possible escape, he nearly missed his companions gasp of surprise.

“What? What is it?” he asked, not bothering to look where she stared as he ran his fingers experimentally down the wall.

“Who was that?” Clara murmured more to herself than to him.

“Who? What?” this time the Doctor glanced up from his work. He was sure there was no other being in this room other than Clara and himself. Yet as he glanced into each corner of the room, he felt the presence of a foreboding figure.

“That girl,” Clara stood and stepped hesitantly toward an invisible figure neither of them could see.“It was just for a moment, but, there was a girl dressed in pink...and I think, yellow.”

“A girl in pink and yellow?” He stared quizzically at Clara, then at the space around them. There was a haunted awareness in the air; they both expected a ghost to pop up from a darkened corner and scare them to wits end.

“Yes,” Clara whispered, “her eyes were yellow...or was it gold? They seemed to glow,” she stepped further into the room, her eyes searching for the invisible ghost. If she had stepped any further she would have collided into the creature of which she spoke. The Creature looked at her in wonder.

Clara had seen her! Was this a sign? She glanced at the Doctor and found no recognition in his eyes. She felt her self sag, in either relief or disappointment she could not know. But she knew now for certain that his girl of pink and yellow, he could no longer remember.


	3. Her Punishment

It was rare when the Doctor and his companion were not running for their lives, or saving a desperate soul from a pitiful fate. Even rarer was it for the creature to spend a few precious moments sitting contentedly, while watching the odd couple enjoy their day without any hungry demons nearby. Today was that kind of day. The creature sat on the railing of the TARDIS, gazing as the two laughed gaily. Her mouth twitched as the Doctor tried to explain a complicated element to his bewildered companion. She understood of what he spoke, of course she did, she is no longer what she used to be. She puts her input here and there, responding to Doctor's questions, contradicting him when her opinion differs, but of course, her words go unheard. She considers it therapy, talking to him, or anyone, even though no one can hear her; but the very act responding, or imagining a conversation, brings a since of calm to the pending madness. Or maybe she was already mad, she was in fact talking to herself.  
Spending nearly five hundred years with him brought about all since of madness, but then she had always wanted to stay with him forever, now forever is what she had, and she almost regretted it. Trapped behind a wall of isolation was not the ideal of living an immortal life, and now she completely comprehended why the Doctor needed his companions. Living alone will drive one to the brink of utter and unreasonable madness. Only in her case, it was different, and arguably even worse. She was alone, yet she wasn't. Cloaked in a blanket of invisibility she lived and breathed the same air, but did not exist in his world. She liked to think she lived in the forth dimension, a alternate reality within her own world; a one way mirror.  
And as she continued to watch she became aware she no longer felt satisfied by sitting idly. She felt restless with a frightening need to scream and kill something, anything. She wanted someone to look at her, to truly look and see her as she fought for her survival along with the survival of the other lives. Such a task should never be done alone, the Doctor knew that all too well, but for all she knew she lived alone, with only the demons to play with.  
She had understood why the Doctor always had a companion. Even he could not stand the silence, the loneliness, with no one to hold his hand.  
Loneliness...  
After so many years of confinement of living in this mirror world, but never existing, never touching, never being seen or heard, it might as well be living in hell. It was terror to live in a world of demon’s and monsters, always aware of the things hiding behind her back.  
This was her punishment. She lived, but was invisible to the world and to those she loved. She was destined to save the Doctor, again and again. Protecting him from the world that tried to devour him, save him when evil tried to snatch him from existence.  
It was already punishment enough that she lived in a world where she was locked away with demons, but to have the one she loved never once glance at her, to hear her cries as she screamed his name, never knowing it was she who held his hand as he stood alone; this was her true punishment.


	4. Bad Wolf

She follows them day and night; following them to the ends of the earth to then abruptly fall over the edge and on the next planet. The universe becomes a blur until she can no longer distinguish one planet from the next. This is what it must be like, she lets her thoughts wonder, to see so much of the vast universe it loses its splendor. And with each passing day, the growing boredom makes her more restless, more careless. She tries to aggravate the demons from their hiding spot just to blast their pathetic skin into ashes. She ravishes the moments when they leap at her, claws gleaming in the sun rays, and watch them scream and whine as they burn.

 _You like it don't you?_ The hiss of a whisper ghosts her ear, but she ignores the voice, and instead watches a demon whimper as his insides tare and twist inside him.  
 _Let them pay. Someone always has to pay, why does it have to be you? Show them how merciless you can be, let them pay for the blood._

The voice echo’s through her head clouding her mind with a thick blanket, shrouding her sight, and her conscious mind. She feels tired and wants to sleep even as the demons continue to rage about her. She falters slightly, the blanket wrapping tighter around her, her eyes drooping, and she feels herself falling away from the world into a black precipice. Something shoves her down, wrenching her away from the world and thrusting her away under lock and key. She is helpless, a victim to her own mind. She is bound in unbreakable chains, and all she can do is scream and beg to be released. But of course, this is a moment of freedom for the beast, it is not going back to its prison so easily.

It shakes its head at her, _so pathetic you are_ , it croons, _you think you can save yourself, save them, from these so called demons? Dear one, you cannot even protect yourself._

She rages against the cage, she’s broken out before, she'll break out again, but she grows weak, her limbs are no longer her own, her mind taken by the monster of her own making, and she crumbles into the beckoning warmth of the dark.  
She awakens back on the TARDIS. Her eyes slowly open, a pounding sensation throbs in her head. She passes a hand across her eyes, rubbing her face aggressively. She feels the effects of a heavy sleep, and it takes more effort than it normally should to raise her head from the floor. There is no memory of what had transpired of the monster, and she dreads seeing what it had done. She rises to her feet, shaking, her muscles convulsing, shaking her head to clear what is left of the threads of confusion. She is in the library, a place she avoids, mainly because it is always so quit, almost lonely. As she unsteady walks toward the door, she notices there is no disruption, which was something she had expected when the monster had taken control. She had anticipated chaos, perhaps even cities burned to the ground, but she was unprepared for such normalcy. In the next room she hears the Doctor exclaiming something, and Clara laughing at whatever antic he had done. It wasn't right.  
“What did you do?” she whispers to the air, glancing around, almost waiting for something to blast into a raging fire.

 _Why do you always assume the worst?_ The slithering hiss blows gently through her head. _I only did what you were trying to accomplish._

“Accomplish?” she scoffs, “you only want to see the world burn. What did you do? Who did you kill this time?” The monster bares its teeth and gnashes its gleaming teeth.

_You are weak without me, you would be dead without me. Look around you, do you see the world burning? Do you see your precious Doctor still breathing? I protected him, saved him even. Without me you would have failed._

“I could have done just the same if you hadn't been banging around.” She retorts, how she wishes she could wring its neck, but she might as well be wringing her own. She hears a laugh and she can imagine it smiling mischievously.  
So weak, so pathetic.  
She narrows her eyes, balling her fists. “You know nothing of me.”

 _On the contrary,_ its voice rumbling like low thunder, _I'm inside your head, I know everything. Every thought, ever...desire._

At that moment the Doctor rushes by, dragging Clara by the hand. You want out, out of this place just as much as I do.  
“Go to hell.” Is her only response.

_Darling, we are already there._

She wishes there was a curtain, or a switch to turn off its voice, but the voice continuous to echo throughout the day, and through each year, and every century. All these years and the Bad Wolf never left her.


	5. Almost

Living in an invisible world has its perks. When the boredom becomes overwhelming she likes to entertain herself. Sometimes by having imaginary conversations with the Doctor, or sometimes by playing tricks on his companion - this became her favorite pastime. She wanted to test how much Clara could sense her. While Clara slept, she would hum an old lullaby her mum used to sing, her humming would go unheard, but the sleeping girl became restless. This activity didn't last long, for the poor girl began to have dark circles around her eyes, so the Creature resorted to other antics. She would move certain items around the room when Clara wasn't looking, or occasionally hide something, snickering while she observed Clara frantically hunting for the item she 'misplaced.' She didn't dare try any of these activities on the Doctor, not that he could sense her anyway. She couldn't place an answer as to why; maybe it was because she was a coward, that he would investigate these odd occurrences and would, somehow, find her. But by no means could he ever, and she was almost content with that.

Almost is such a petty word. She almost wished he could see her, she almost desired for him to acknowledge her. She almost wanted to ask him why he lied to her, why he left her, and if he regretted never telling her the truth. She had been angry before. Oh, how the rage consumed her when the truth had finally made itself known. It had casually knocked on her front door, then burst through, leaving her life in shambles. Now, however, the rage had tempered out, and all she wanted was reconciliation, almost. She didn't know what would happen if he saw what had become of her, what he would think, and she berated herself for even caring, but the nagging curiosity never left that corner of her mind.

 _Come now_ , the voice would insist, _all this power and you never bother to experiment with it. There is so much more you can do, just try, let me help you, and you can ask these questions to the dear Doctor himself_.

She would ignore the monster, but its words never went unconsidered.


	6. It Will Be Alright

Sometimes she wanted to throttle him. Did he have to constantly be on the move? Did he have to skip around every inch of each planet, and discover every nook and cranny? Answer every call or plea? Every time he stepped out of the protection of his great blue box, she would grit her teeth and follow behind him like the obedient servant she was. And while he enjoyed himself, solving one mystery after the next, she would force back the blood craving demons from sinking their teeth into his flesh. It wasn't she didn't enjoy the traveling, it was what she always wanted, but the fighting never stopped. It was always hardest when he would run off with Clara, and keeping track of them both while fighting back the dark horde of claws, was quite humanly impossible. Thank god she wasn't human, but at the end of the day, she could barely move with exhaustion.

“Oh, stop! Come back,” she called at their backs, dodging a swipe from a long armed demon. More of the ugly beasts move past her, slithering toward the unexpected couple. They aim to break free of their isolated world, and maybe they think she is the key to their escape, for a fatal attack on the Doctor and his companion would surely break her enough to allow them their freedom. She lets out a string of curses, turning her back on her own attacker and charges after them. As soon as she starts to run, a lace of fire springs down her back, lashing her back around. The mechanical laugh of the demon gurgles with the saliva dripping from its muzzle, her blood dripping down its claws. She ignores the pain, she has to, it will go away after a while. With a flick of her hand the demon crumbles into itself, its skin turning into black liquid, until it is nothing but a dark puddle in the street. She sprints away, finding the odd couple with the rest of the demons breathing down their necks.

“Go to hell,” she hisses, and with a golden flash of light the demons combust into ashes. Finally, she breaths deeply, the pain along her back still throbbing. She takes off the jacket she was wearing, inspecting the slashes the demon caused. Shaking her head she flaps it once, trying to shake off the crusted blood in the seems.

“See what you did?” She snaps at the Doctor. “If you hadn't run off like you did, you wouldn't have ruined my favorite jacket! Remember what you always told me? Never run off. Well you should follow your own bloody rule.”

The Doctor moves past her, never even sensing the sizzling glare of the Creature. She sighs and follows after them.

“I mean really, the least you could do is offer a lady a new jacket.”

They continued to walk.

“No you wouldn't would you. Too human of you.”

Clara stopped to inspect a flower with glowing petals.

“But, then, I'm not really a lady.” She lets the jacket fall to the ground, leaving it in a heap in a puddle. It was ruined anyway, and she didn't know how to fix it. Instead, she went to stand next to the Doctor's side.

“You know I'm getting tired of this one way conversation. How about you try for a change? Stop leaving me with all the dirty work.”

He stoops to pick up Clara's hand and they continue their walk to where ever they were going, she wasn't paying attention when a destination was declared.

“Right then,” picking along next to them, “not in the mood today I see. S'okay, I can wait.”

She hums for a while as they walk, the suns warm, and for a moment she was content. They walked side by side, the Doctor in one of his usual rambles, and Clara asked questions about the new world around them. It felt nice, even though the gashes in her back stung, she felt the tissues knitting themselves back together. It was alright, she thought, it will be alright. But even with the suns warmth, her heart still felt cold. And even in the bright light of day, the foreboding shadows still crept along behind her.

“I'm going insane,” she muttered, and stopped her pace along side the Doctor, letting them trail ahead. She felt sore and tired, her age taking a claim on her. Playing pretend didn't help much, because in the end the reality of her world stormed through her gates, and the cold rush burned away any warmth. No more warmth, no comfort, no family, no lover, nothing. Not even him, he was also gone from her, even though he stood in front of her. No one should be isolated, it warps the mind, and darkens the soul. Pretending the arms of her mother where around her, only caused her to start awake in the night, shuddering when realizing it was never real. The warmth of the suns wasn't even real, she couldn't feel it, she wasn't part of that world. She hung her head, pitying herself for her own stupidity


	7. What Are You?

Some days, she wondered if it would be possible to let the dark wave of claws to ascend on her, letting them tear her apart. But would good would that do? This world didn't comprehend the meaning of death. If she was fatally wounded, dying, or bleeding out she would slip away for only a moment then be sucked back down into her body, completely healed. The demons, as well, never completely died. Their ashes would twist into the wind, forming a new body for its original host. She would gladly take the rebirth of the demons over the fact they seemed to be multiplying.

“What, is it mating season?” She would snarl, sizzling a small demon back into ashes.

For the past two months, however, there had been a lull in the attacks, and for that she was completely grateful. She could enjoy herself, for what it seemed the first time in centuries. And like a fool she let down her guard. It was as if the demons had been purposely holding back, waiting for the moment when she stupidly put down her guard, did they then unleash a terror with such fury she had never known they possessed. Waves upon waves of needle-like claws raking down her neck, gouging her stomach, lashing at her face.

She is a god, gifted with powers no being should ever begin to comprehend, yet the waves of black claws over powered her and they slashed and ripped her open. She fights for her life, for the Doctors, for Clara’s, and she paid with her blood. She screams like a made woman, blood foaming at her mouth, as she wrenches off the head of a demon. She fights wildly, her life on the edge of a precipice, and it is not enough. She could not fail, she could never fail him. She spurs her powers until she is left convulsing with no strength to lift up her hand.

 _Let me help you. Let me out,_ it whispers sweetly.

“Shut up!” She collapses to the ground and the demons laugh as they watch the Creature fall at their feet. She was failing, falling to the ground, and already the demons have turned away from her, ready to pounce upon their next two victims which were walking away, unconscious of the battle scene behind them. They stand on a beach, the Doctor with some alien tech in his hands, trying to decipher the puzzle the tech challenged while Clara whispers something into his ear. Something smart perhaps, she was always smart.

They were going to die.

She lets out a battle cry of rage and fury and stands once more to fight away the pending darkness. She stands alone in front an army of demons, with no soul to stand at her back, and she was afraid.

Her faltering, painful steps earned her laughs and jeers from the demons as they watch her pathetic attempt to stop them. She chocks on her blood and trips on her feet, but gathers her strength together one last time. With a shriek that would have shaken the sky, she releases a pulse of golden light that turns the remaining demons to dust. She is safe, they are safe, but she falls for a final time to the blood soaked mud. Her eyes are heavy, but before she succumbs to the darkness she sees a flash of light, a sound as loud and frightening as thunder, and the world turned black.

* * *

Her head hurts, and she groans wishing she could go back to the warm darkness for a while longer. She slowly sits up, rubbing her eyes, clearing them from crusted sweat. When the fog clears her weary mind, she becomes aware of two entities. One, she was back in the TARDIS laying on her favorite coach, a pillow tucked under her head. The second, a person with wild curly hair leaning down over her. Her eyes still unfocused, she shoves herself from the cushions, trying to gain an intimidating stance. A laugh echoed through the room.

“Don't fall down again sweetie, you took a bad hit you did.”

She stills, even though her eyes were struggling to adjust, there was no mistake figure was addressing her. A demon, it had to be, but she sways on her feet, the warm pulse of her strength decapitating; not even the monster made a move to bend its caged bars. Her eyes flare, the gold sparks flashing for a moment.

“What are you?” She croaks, she feels a slip of gathering strength in her fingertips and summoned it to build.

The wild hair shakes, as if the being is laughing slightly. “I suppose I'm many things.”

The figure reaches out toward her, either to offer her a hand or take her by the throat, she takes no chance. With what little strength she gathers, she lets it burst out, though the gold was dim, it hurtles toward the figure in a desperate push. The figure flies across the room smacking into the wall with a thud. Immediately, the figure rises to its feet, a hand reaching inside its coat to reveal a small gun, which it blatantly points at the hunched Creature.

“The hell is wrong with you?” The tall figure clambers back to its feet. It was a woman, the Creature could see that now. The woman paints, trying to regain her breath; her gun still pointed at the Creatures head. The Creature stills, kneeling on the floor not trusting her limp legs. Anyone who might have known her could see the slight astonishment, and confusion, fleeting across her face, but as there was not a soul who did, she only appeared impassive, and perhaps a little dangerous even as she knelt.

“What are you?” The Creature repeats.

A slight smirk tugs at the corners of the woman's mouth, “I should ask the same for you. What sort of being does....that?” She gestured to the distance between them, “not human most certainly, but why do you take the form of one?”

The woman's words never reach the Creatures ears, she only gazes wildly from the point of the woman's gun to the wild hair. She has seen this women before, but how...suddenly the women is shoved against the wall once again, the gun flung to the floor, and an arm pressed harshly against her throat. Golden eyes burn dangerously close.

"How...?” The whisper of the word barely passes the Creatures lips, but her astonishment was plain for the women to see.

Neither spoke, they only assesses each other in wordless silence. Finally, the Creature steps back, flinging her arm away from the women. Disgust contorting her face.

 _Why_ , the Creature thought, _did it have to be her to see through the veil?_

The woman rubs her throat, and to the Creatures annoyance, she laughed lightly.

“Aggressive little thing aren't you. Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

The Creature turns back to face the woman, lost in her thoughts.

“Two centuries and this is how it ends,” she mutters finally, and backs away from the women, her exasperation evident in her rigid stance.

The women cocks her head, “do I not deserve a thank you? Ungrateful thing you are.”

The Creature cuts her eyes at the woman, any feeling of longing for a companion gone cold.

“Get out,” She hisses.

The amusement in the woman's eyes extinguish. “I saved your life. You can stop the aggressive attitude. If I wanted you dead, I would have done it while you were unconscious.”

“And why didn't you?” 

“I saw what you did, you saved him, and Clara.”

“And if I hadn't would you have killed me?” The Creature folds her arms across her chest, daring the woman to continue.

“Maybe.” But her amused smirk defies her answer.

That seemed to amuse the Creature, but again her eyes narrowed.

“I've seen you before.” The Creature states bluntly.

“Have you? I don't remember meeting you. Have I ever tried to kill you?”

“Your her,” a wave of exhaustion envelopes her, but her dignity demands her to remain standing

“Her?” The woman tilts her head at a curious angle.

“You married the Doctor,” the Creature mutters stiffly.

“Ah, yes, I am her then,” the woman smirks, “and now that we are at formalities, who are you?”

“No one,” she mumbles, wishing the women to disappear.

The woman scoff's slightly, “No one? What a strange name. Well, I have nothing to hide, River is my name,” her eyes twinkled with an amusement that irk the Creature. She only stares at River, her powerful gaze almost peering into River's soul seeking out her secrets. 

“How can you see me?” The Creature finally asks.

Confusion furrows Rivers brow. “What do you mean?”

For a moment the Creature is uncertain, unsure how to explain. “I call this place the Mirror World, although the better term would be hell,” she holds her arms out, “this place exists within the same universe, but is invisible to the rest of the world. I suppose it is a place between places. For the past two centuries I have been locked inside this world. I move as I please, I walk among the rest of the world, but I am never seen. One could walk straight through me and they would never know it. So how is it now that over a two damned centuries can you see me? How are you even here?”

Astonished, River looks about the room as if finding her own confirmation that what the Creature said was true, then simply states, “I don't know.”

“Do not lie to me, I know when someone lies.”

“I do not know,” River repeated again, her face solemn. It is an honest answer.

“What about the...those scaly slimy things?” River asks tentatively.

“Demons?”

“If that’s what you call them.”

The Creature shrugs, “they are a part of this existence. This place is rather the holding cell to keep them from escaping into different realities. They never belonged anywhere, so they became nothing more than ravaging demons.”

“You're the protector then? The almighty king of the castle?” River grins with false amusement.

“More or less,” the Creature does not smile back, though River detects an amused gleam in her eyes.

“Now, how is it you know the Doctor?” River's face became grim. The Creature scrutinizes her, “what does it matter? I'm his protector, is that not satisfactory enough?”

“But you do know him. Why else would you protect him from those demons?”

“Either if I did know him or not, it does not matter. Wherever he goes I must follow, whenever he faces danger I must protect him. I suppose that is the only reason I am here, to protect him.”

“I saw what you did,” River begins, “I saw you fight, you nearly died. You risked your life for him, such devotion does not come lightly.”

The Creature laughs humorlessly, “Oh, I cannot die, I have tried every possible way. Whenever I did try, my body always pulls itself back together again. I cannot not seem to stay just dead.”

“You've tried to kill yourself?” There is disgust in River's voice, “You said so yourself that your purpose is to protect the Doctor, to keep him alive, but you decide to throw your life away, to leave the Doctor unprotected from what he cannot see?” Anger simmers in Rivers eyes. 

“Do not accuse me of what you don't know,” the Creature snarls, “there was a time when I had a selfless reason to die...besides,” She brushes roughly past River, "live here long enough and you'd want to try it too."

She feels River's eye boring into her back.

“I'll see you again,” River's voice barely reaches her ears. She turns, her eyes resting on the spot River had stood to only find she had vanished.

“I hope not,” she mutters to herself and continues on her way.


	8. Jealousy

Once she had longed for companionship, now she cursed herself, and what ever god had granted her wish. She felt as if her world was being invaded. River's occasional appearances, and her constant reminiscence of her lovely events with her beloved Doctor – for what else is a ghost to do other than remember their loved ones? - nearly made her snap and blast River back to where ever she came from. She was a reminder of what the Creature should have had; River's stories made her burn with a jealousy for a real life; a normal life, not this bleak fakery. Yet, even though, she wouldn't likely ever call River a friend, she was no enemy either. For when the waves of demons thrashed down with their glinting claws, she would find River at her back, keeping the slashing demons at bay.  
“Why do you do this?” she asked River once as they regained their breath from a particular skirmish with a troublesome horde, “why are you helping me?”  
River glanced over at her, squinting her eyes in assessment. “You prefer fighting alone?” The question annoyed the Creature; she stood straight with her hands clasped on her hips. “I've fought more battles than you have in a lifetime, and alone. I want to know why you keep coming back. You don't have to be here.”  
River shrugged, “maybe that’s why I come back, because you've been alone too long.”  
The Creature stares at her unblinking. “Touching, but I am not the reason for these visits. What do you want?”  
There was always a secret hiding behind River's smile, something that made one think she knew more, that she was always one step ahead, and it unnerved her. River sighed, and gazed out at the setting sun.  
“Maybe I want nothing. But we all have our agendas do we not.”  
Her gaze settled back on the Creature's, her lips twisting up into that secret grin. The Creature hated being antagonized, she hated being indebted, especially to one such as River. And as ungrateful as it was, she wished River would leave her alone. Maybe she did like the solitude more than she believed she did, or maybe her old jealousies were eating away her conscience.  
There was a small thread of trust woven thinly between them. Yet, even when River would engage her in conversation, it never seemed to be quite friendly. It was as if River was a predator circling her pray, waiting to see what kind of being she really was. To find out hidden truths, and find a reason to trust this Creature that protected her Doctor with such persistence. In the end, it was River who did most of the talking. She would be reminiscent about her time's with the Doctor or spoke none at all. But when the silence grew between them, it became domineering and more horrible than when the Creature was alone in her world.  
“How did you first come into being here?” River asked one day as they strolled through a crowded village. Vendors called out in foreign tongues, but the Doctor, of course, knew the language and translated for Clara, but only when he wasn't distracted by some oddity.  
The Creature almost didn't answer River's question.She wasn't in the mood for more interrogation. However, her question struck a small memory hidden in the dark vault of her mind. It was hazy, a cloudy mist hovering over the images so she could not comprehend the importance of the memory. But she knew it held a heavy awakening. She dared not go near it as it would force her to relive the memory she tried so hard to forget.  
“I don't know,” was her terse reply.  
“You were not born here then?” River asked skeptically.  
The Creature cut her eyes at the curly haired women.  
“Most certainly not,” she muttered.  
“Then where do you come from?” River continued to question. She either was ignoring the Creature's exasperated appearance, or she was being purposely ignorant.  
“Not from here,” the Creature replied.  
River huffed, “you are a thing of few words. Why the secrecy? Or do you not know that either?”  
In truth the Creature knew very well of her life before, but those memories belonged to her, and she refused to indulge River. Instead of answering the Creature replied, “the less you know of me, the better we will both be.”  
River scoffed. “Rather dramatic. What kind of awful thing are you hiding from?”  
The Creature paused for a moment, then shrugged.  
“A wolf,” was all she uttered before walking away.


	9. Yellow Roses

A week passed, and River was no where to be seen. Whether or not the Creature found this enticing she couldn't decide. In fact, the quietness around her echoed a lonely call that made her shiver.  
_You are never truly alone_ , the voice whispers. She snarls her reply, forcing the beast to snap its jowls shut.  
Clara was gone as well. Dropped off at home to finish her teaching. They were both alone, and she could feel his loneliness. At one time she would have reached out and held his hand, to give him some solace while he was lost in the vast realm of his mind. But it was no longer her place to fulfill. That job had gone to Clara, and before her Amy, Donna, and so forth. There was always someone for him, some brilliant, fantastic, mind would take the vacant spot and fill his world again. And with that she found her own solace, but now with Clara gone for a time, she found herself irked at the Doctors restlessness. Over the centuries there had grown a fear in him, one that stemmed from his past companions abruptly leaving, or dying. With Clara gone, the Creature saw how the girls absence made him more frantic than his usual madness. There was always _what if_ floating about his mind. What if Clara decided to never come back, what if something happened, what if...  
The Creature would shake her head at his useless ramblings. He would never understand that with one taste of the splendor of the world he offered, going back to a mundane existence would be the equivalent of a death sentence. To live a normal life would only suck away the light from the world, leaving an empty and pitiful void. Traveling with him was intoxicating, for the increasing need to see more becomes like a parched throat begging for a drink but is never satisfied. A sudden wish to live forever, to only stand by his side for eternity, to always be the one to hold his hand. For all his knowledge, he doesn't understand, will never understand, the pull in which he drags his companions into his magical box. How irresistible the color blue suddenly becomes; how the ears are always straining to hear that horrible, yet wonderful sound the TARDIS makes. No, he will never understand the damage he does, but maybe that is how it should be.  
As she watches him continue his mindless ramblings, she wants to smack him for his needless worry; sometimes he can be ever so ignorant.  
“Of course she'll be back,” she huffs, “stop talk'n to yourself and lets do something, go somewhere. I'm bored.” None of the demons had been active of late.  
His constant rambles, she knows, is only a tactic to keep his mind off the absence of Clara, off of the vast lonely space around him. He twitches a lever, pushes a button, racks a hand through his hair, fixes his bow tie.  
“Stop your fuss'n. Let’s have some fun,” she nudges her elbow against his arm “come on, like the old day's, just you an' me.” He passes straight through her, and taps a fingertip on the metal counsel.  
She scrunches her face exasperatedly. “Really? You just want to mope about?” A shadow passes over his face; lost inside his mind. She looks down, knowing how useless it was. She turns and leans back against the counsel, her arms crossed as if guarding against an unknown threat. “You should never be left alone,” she murmurs, “none of us should. No one is meant to ever be alone. But she's coming back you idiot. We always do. We can't help it, we are always dragged back here and its always the death of us someway or another.” She laughs unhumorously, shaking her head, “I should know.”  
She watches him for a minute or two, waiting for something to occur, but instead he rests his hands on the counsel, staring down at the numerous buttons; he always liked buttons, big red buttons are so much easier, he would say.  
“So that’s it then? We just gonna stand about until dear old Clara comes back again?” She grunts her frustration, rocking back and forth on her feet. “You make me almost wish River was here.” She leaves him alone in the room, walking back toward kitchen. She cant eat anything, doesn't ever need to, but she liked the smell of tea that always seemed to be floating about the room. It reminded her of her mother. She walked toward the table in the middle of the room, yellow roses were planted daintily in the middle; Clara's doing. She treads through the vast space- nothing in the TARDIS is ever small-while purposely ignoring the women sitting at the table, coolly drinking a steaming mug of tea.  
“You haven't told me your name yet,” Rivers voice intrudes any thought of excluding pleasantries. The Creature lets out a long sigh before pulling out a chair to join her. “What’s in a name?” she mused rather than questioned.  
“Names are powerful,” River effused softly, “why else would the Doctor hide his name.” The Creature raised an eyebrow, indignant at River's attempt of a lecture.  
“Indeed, all the more reason to conceal it,” she sarcastically jeered. River put down her cup, “From who my dear? From your own words no one knows of your existence. With no threat, why is there a need to hide from anyone.” River's reminder of her prisoned state irked her further.  
“What does it matter to you?” The Creature leans back in her chair, pulling her long hair back behind her ear. River shrugged, her lips fetched up into that characteristic smirk.  
“Nothing beyond my own curiosity,” she quipped before scrunching her face in thought, “also perhaps putting a name to a face is more fitting rather than making up names.”  
Amused, the Creature leaned her forearms on the table, “what kind of names?”  
River laughed, “some rather unflattering I'm afraid, but you do live up to them.” She raised her mug up as if toasting to the Creature before downing the remains of the liquid.  
“Go on then,” River continued, “is it a hideous name?”  
The Creature paused, her eyes narrowed, “I’ve forgotten it,” she profoundly stated. She was lying, but River didn't seem to know, for the bright quirk in her eyes vanished and was replaced with a solemn stare.  
“To have forgotten your name means you have forgotten yourself.” Her voice had grown quiet; the whispered words were a heavy condemned verdict. Solemnness didn't seem to fit well on her face, it made the Creature squirm inwardly, annoyed.  
“I am who I am,” she briskly stated, “who I used to be is nothing to what I am now. My name now has little relevance.”  
Intrigued, River raised an eyebrow, “who were you before?”  
The Creature leaned back in her chair, letting out a tired sigh. “Why the sudden interest?”  
River smirked, “why evade my question with a question?”  
The Creature leaned back into her chair shaking her head, an exasperated smile twisting her lips.  
“I don't understand your need to know me,” her eyes narrowed as she assessed River, “what are you after?”  
“It's a simple question, why are you so persistent to avoid it?” River pressed.  
“You want to know who I was? You call that a simple question? More like an interrogation,” the Creature snapped.  
“Do you even remember who you were?” River continued to ask.  
“What's it to you?” She hissed.  
“Course you remember,” River whispered, “I heard you talking. Heard you refer yourself as one and the same as Clara. Where you a past companion?”  
A fire grew somewhere deep in the Creature's veins. Her eyes sparked, the yellow in them turning to molten gold.  
“And if I was?” She growled dangerously, her lips pressed back to reveal her teeth.  
“Well it would explain your obsession with him.”  
“My obsession?” The Creature spat the word like it was foul in her mouth.  
“Its in your eyes. You hide it well, and it took me long enough to figure it out, but he meant something to you...back then.”  
The Creature pressed a hand underneath her chin, her face a blank canvas so as to keep River from making more deductions. “You assume too much.” She said after a moment of silence.  
“But I'm not wrong. I think you even loved him once, or still do.”  
A sardonic smile twisted the Creatures lips, “even if I did, much good it would do me now, or ever for that matter.”  
River pressed her lips together, “what were you to him?” she asked slowly.  
“Afraid I could have meant something to him?” The Creature taunted.  
River laughed, “if you did, whatever you were supposedly, is long since forgotten.”  
Any trace of a smile snapped off the Creatures face, “whereas you will always be remembered?”  
The fire in her words burned through the air, and River acknowledged the frantic anger radiating in the Creatures gold eyes, she had struck a hidden emotion the Creature had fought to conceal.  
“You think he cares to remember what pains him most?” the Creature seethes, “You are no different from the likes of his companions, as soon as your gone, he will wipe you from his memory, and be forgotten just like the rest.”  
“How little you know him. He never forgets, he always remembers what is important to him.” River stated pointedly.  
“Important...” she trails off, eyes fixed on a distant memory, “so you assume I was dismissed for lack of importance. Do you honestly believe you are so different from his companions that you are the most important?”  
“No one who travels with him is unimportant; however, there are certain degrees of importance. I have never been his companion. Believe it or not, like it or not, I am different. I am his wife.” River's calm voice scraped past her ears, she ground her teeth.  
“His wife,” the Creature scoffed, “and have you forgotten that I have seen everything? I've witnessed it all, to you killing him, to your so called marriage. You never truly married him, it never happened. The year was erased don't you recall? And further, you didn't even marry the real man, just the shell of what looked like him.” Her gut twisted, but still the words pored from her lips. “He never even thought to rectify it did he? He would have rather pretended it never happened, and forget what it took for him to save the very universe you put into peril. He chose to run away, like he always does. You can pretend all you wish Miss Song, at least you can find solace in a fantasy.” Her words were cruel, but she regretted not a word. Their eyes remained locked on each other, daring the other to look away.  
“You can't let it go can you?” River's voice seemed to echo in the small room. “He has forgotten you and you can't let it go.”  
“Again you assume there is something to forget,” the Creature snarled, “but he does forget, or at least tries to. I've seen companions come and go, as soon as one falls another arrives, and so the cycle continues. Another face, another companion to keep him company, they are all the same. Important as they are, they all serve the same purpose. You are just like them. And when the pain becomes too much you will be gone from his mind.”  
River remains silent, her eyes steadily tracking the Creature's movements. The Creature sighed, “if you go as so far as to put the entire universe into jeopardy for the sake of his life, don't you think that by forgetting the painful memories, and the people in those memories, will save his sanity?”  
“What’s left of it,” River added, her eyes downcast, but a slight lift of her mouth teased a grin. River waited a moment before asking, “what should I call you then?”  
The Creature shrugged. “What ever you wish.” She glanced down at the yellow roses, and for whatever reason changed her mind.  
“Wait....”  
But, when she looks up, River was gone.


	10. Tick Tock

She should have known better. The beast was restless of late, prowling along its cage, waiting. It wasn't like she could have helped it, her mind and body was on the brink of collapse after a long and fitful day of demon play. They had generated with such force, she could comprehend nothing but claws and teeth, blood and bone. River never came, and she cursed herself for losing her temper at the woman. Maybe if she has kept her mouth shut River might have come, and though she loathed to admit such a venerable state, she was scared, and wished River had come to her aid. So tired she was, that after the battle, she forced herself to crawl back into the library of the TARDIS, and plummet down onto the floor.  
She felt the beast stir, and with slow rising panic realized what it was doing. She cursed herself for letting down her guard as her conscious was pushed back, until it was she who was locked behind the bares.  
_Never forge_ t, it hissed, _who I am. I am your protector; you only ever need me. Wish all you like, but you can never be rid of me. Wish again for another, I dare you._  
With those words a door to her mind opened. She let out a strangled cry as the swirling blackness filled her senses as an old memory took away her consciousness.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Even as a child, the one thing the Creature detested more than a fleet of Daleks, were haunted houses. Truly, she would rather face an army of demons rather than stepping into a place known to be haunted. So on a rather boring day the Doctor proclaimed they were going to visit 1974, to see a professor who proclaimed to be a ghost hunter. The Doctor had proclaimed this with such glee the Creature couldn't help roll her eyes. But it wasn't until he mentioned the Caliburn House, a mansion that was famously known for its haunting ghost, did she squeak out a protest, “no!” the same time Clara let out an excited “yes!”

“You cannot be serious!” The Creature moaned.

The Doctor danced around the counsel, tapping away at buttons, “the ghost is known as the Witch of the Well,” he said rather too jolly for the Creature's liking, “I've always wanted to go on a ghost hunt. Gives you a chill right down the back bone doesn't it,” he laughed excitedly. The Creature threw her hands in the air, “how can you be so exhilarated by this!”

_How pathetic!_ The voice hissed.  
“Keep your damn mouth shut,” she snarled.

_How dare you act so childish. You fight the monsters of this world and you have the audacity to grovel at such a monstrosity. The idea of ghosts is beneath you, and you shy away like a coward._

“I'm not a coward,” she mentally kicked herself for the quaver in her voice.  
The voice laughed, _you are more of a ghost than that thing they are chasing._

At that moment the TARIDS landed and Clara was first to reach the door.

_Have no fear,_ it crooned, _I shall be here to protect you._

“I protect myself, be on your own guard,” she warned before following the Doctor out the door.

The mansion was beautiful, in a haunting way. And if it could have been any more cliché, thunder cracked across the darkened sky.

“Of course there just had to be a storm coming,” she watched as the Doctor scampered up do the porch, knocking on the large wooden doors, “an on coming storm, wouldn't ya say Doc?”  
The door opened hesitantly, revealing a handsome man who glanced unknowingly at the odd pair before him.

“We are the Ghostbusters,” Clara introduced themselves. The Creature rolled her eyes. Without being invited in the Doctor squeezed his way in passed the man, looking about the vast room like an excited child.  
“Alec Palmer,” the Doctor exclaimed excitedly shaking the man's hand, “its so wonderful to finally meet you.” The Doctor continued to ramble on about his little investigation on Palmers life, probably revealing too much information, for which made Alec look at the Doctor questionably.

There was another presence standing in the room behind Alec, standing back a little nervously while observing the sudden intrusion. Her name was Emma, and was the first object that caught the Creature's attention. She was a different sort of girl, pretty, but appeared to be holding a great burden. She was intriguing. Palmer, who excused the Doctors presence as military intelligence to an unsettled Emma, explained the events of the ghost, how even though the house was only a few decades old, the ghost had existed long before the house was built. The pictures Palmer showed, revealed a white ghost, mouth gaping open, arm out stretched.

“It’s in the exact same position,” Clara pointed out, “the ghost never changes.”  
The pictures unsettled the Creature. She didn't care much about this 'hunt' so long as the demons were behaving, she could lean back and watch the events unfold. And she would have done so if Emma hadn't caught her attention. The woman stood next to Palmer, but she kept glancing around, as if looking for some unknown presence. She heard her describe herself as an empathic psychic, someone who can since feelings in other entities; somewhat telepathic. The revelation of this information made the Creature blink owlishly. Uncertainty threaded with excitement, the Creature crouched next to where Emma sat as she talked with Clara.

“How much can you hear? Can you sense me?” The Creature barely whispered while the monster recoiled in anger.

_Hear you? What can she do for you? Relay a message to your precious Doctor? Do tell me what you plan to tell him._

The Creature drew back slightly from Emma, and in truth she was not sure what she wished for, even if Emma could, by some miracle, hear her. However, if the Creature hadn't been distracted by her own thoughts, she would have caught Emma's sudden intake of breath and her eyes dart to the empty space around her.

_What do you wish her to do? What can she do that I cannot?_ The beast jeered.

“Even if she were to hear me, there is nothing she can do, but she can offer more than you ever could.” The Creature retorted. The monster was silent for a moment.

_And what may that be?_ It challenged.

“She wouldn't be asking for a blood sacrifice.” The Creature got up from her position by Emma, and strode toward the center of the room.

_You would be lost without me; you would be dead if I hadn't saved you._

“Saved me?” She halted her step, anger furnishing in her veins, “I never asked to be saved, and you didn't save me, rather I saved you. You need my body, so you use me as a host to keep you alive.”

_And in return I saved you from the fate of hell, and fulfilled the desire to travel with him for all eternity. Am I not kind?_

“And in return you've taken my soul, my freedom. Yes, you are so very kind,” she sneered.

It gripped the bars, its impatience radiating a sense of danger.

_Be careful what you say, my love. Do not forget who I am, do not think you can simply...replace me._

The Creature wisely held back her biting words, and instead glanced back at Emma who still sat talking to Clara. Her thoughts traveled in circles, living out scenarios she had often wished were reality. What if Emma could be the passage between her world and his? What if she found a way to grab hold of Emma's attention? What if she could send him a message? Wish after wish, but that was all they were, fake realities, unrealistic wishes. She truly believed that if such a chance were ever given to her, she was not sure she would take it. What a coward she was. She could not face him now, being as she was. She was not the girl he had known, had even loved once. That girl, that child, was gone, more accurately, dead. Despite her thoughts, she continued to glance at the young women longingly. She felt the beast quiver in its cage.

“Jealous?” She taunted with a slight laugh.

_How little you perceive,_ it whispered ominously.

She merely shook her head in disgust.

_Do not turn from me you pathetic thing. You belong to me_.  
She clenched her fists, wishing for a demon to tear apart.

“I belong to no one!” She snarled in a desperate rage.

_You pretend too much._

She felt the cage begin to crack, and, in a sudden panic, she desperately tried to throw the bares back into place. She gasped in exertion, the bars rattled and bent, the beast pushing unrelentingly.

“You will not hurt them!” She panted.

_I_ _s that what you think?_ Its slithering voice dripped with poison, _they are nothing to me. They hold no means of anything worth my attention. Come, let me out, let me show you what I can do. For you._

Her heart raced, gasped for air as she desperately kept the beast from leashing out. She closed her eyes, shrewdly attempting to ignore its tempting voice. Once too many times it had taken over her, and anguishing regret had soon followed. But every time, somehow despite the horrendous actions and despair it had caused, her head was filled with its luring voice.  
It looked back at her, its eyes had gone soft, it knew of her struggles, the nightmares, the blood. It knew how she secretly wished she could be held, and be taken away from the cold and darkness. It knew her, it offered comfort, safety.

_Let go,_ it whispered, _let me take care of you._

She opened her mouth to reply, her chest heaving, bitter tears formed in her eyes. The blackness began to take control.

_Let go_ , echoed its whisper.

She wanted to, she wanted to let it have its way, do what it wanted, it had her under its spell.

“You bastard!” She shrieked. She fought the pending darkness, shoving back the hideous beast back into its cage. It reeled back in surprise before lunging out and striking another attack.

“Parasite!” She seethed.

_Fight as hard as you like, as long as you like, but I will have my way. You are mine._

She shoved harder.

_You only ever need me. One day you will realize it. Emma can't do nothing for you, I can do whatever you wish. Unlike her, I can even bring you to him._

“Damn you,” she choked; she was growing tired, “Emma,” she muttered.

The beast paused for a moment.

_What_? It growled a warning.

“Emma,” she uttered a little louder.

_She won't hear you._

“Emma,” she managed a call.

_Why must you learn the hard way?_

“Help me!” She screamed.

There were four people standing alongside each other in the vast room of the mansion. Each unaware of the struggling woman kneeling, gripping her head, as she screamed. The desperation, and anger, rose like a wave hurtling toward the shore, and hit the barrier dividing her world.

Emma suddenly rocked on her feet, “she knows I'm here,” she murmured as if in a trance, “I can feel her calling out to me.”

“What’s she saying?” Clara asked, eyes wide.

“Help me,” Emma murmured.

Time froze around the Creature, and she heavily lifted her head to stare wide eyed at the small form of Emma. The Creature gasped, sucking in what air she could, feeling the compulsion to reach out and grasp Emma's hand. Desperate to hold on to the moment. The beast said nothing, but its vicious attacks had ceased. She dared not provoke it further so she too kept silent, but could not stop her heart from overflowing. She stood shakily, a real smile etched gracefully on her lips. The beast sneered.  
For the first time in centuries there was a chance, a hope, someone could see passed the veil; maybe she no longer had to live alone.

_Be careful of your emotions, one may never know what they may lead to_ , the slithering whisper of its voice curdled her blood. She shook slightly from containing her excitement, her thoughts whirling.

Freedom...free...

One word that was constant in her thoughts. A chance that was barely allowing light through the cracked door, but was still wide enough for her to peek through and reach out with both hands to wrench the door free.  
Black stars flew before her eyes. A heavy pounding rolled through her head, an anger that was not her own, consumed her very essence, and the air in her lungs stifled at the raging heat.

_I warned you,_ the voice thundered, _how many times must I teach you?_

“Do you truly believe,” she rasped through clenched teeth, “I would allow you to consume me? If freedom from you, from this place, is ever laid into my hands, I will always take it. Or will die trying.”

The voice chuckled.

_Death is not an option for you darling._

She ground her teeth. She heard it sigh exasperatedly.

_I can give you freedom. Stop resisting me, you will come to me in the end. After all, we have eternity. Time is all it will take._

She rubbed her eyes, feeling the need to curl onto the floor and sleep for a year.

“Then wait for eternity. I belong to no one but myself. I am no one's slave.”

It laughed, seeming to enjoy her weary attempt at resistance. She chose to ignore its provoking jeers, willing to keep her thoughts from wondering lest the beast hear them.  
The house groaned and creaked, making her skin crawl, and eyes dart about to the corners of the room; watching to see if the shadows would transform into a demon. She hated this, and wished the Doctor would hurry up, save the day, and get back to the TARDIS already. The shadows were moving, or so she believed, but she couldn't stop the feeling of eyes watching her.  
She became transfixed on the far corner of the room, the shadows fliting and dancing in the light of the fire that roared in the great stone fireplace. An invisible hand brought its icy fingers to her face, stroking her cheek, enticing her to step into its dark embrace. She let in a deep breath, the air was sweet, her head no longer filled with fear, anger, or regret. She felt free. She wanted to dance and sing for joy. She was happy, and a smile was introduced to her lips. She stepped toward the beckoning corner, and the sound of one humming filled her head.  
It was an old song, one a child would sing before bed, yet, something was wrong. It was not a delightful tune, for it held a sinister note, one that held a secret warning; a message. The notes floated in the air only to be snapped away, locked inside a trap. The humming was coming from behind her. Her eyes widened, jolting herself back into reality, and dragged her eyes away from the shadows. She saw Emma, sitting in a large green chair, the notes purring from her lips. The girl did not seem to be aware of her singing, as her eyes were misted over. Clara was darting a worried glance at the Doctor who stood in front of Emma, waving a hand in front of her eyes trying to bring her back from whatever depths she had fallen into.  
The Creature's body became stiff, the warm glow suddenly gone cold; and Emma began to sing.

Tick tock goes the clock, and what then shall we play?  
Tick tock goes the clock and Rose shall fade away.  
Tick tock goes the clock, and it will come to take her.  
Tick tock goes the clock, for soon her time will come.

The fire was no longer warm, the room seemed to be closing in, the light began to diminish, and all she could comprehend was the realization of how close she had come to be embraced by the wolf.

_Do never underestimate me again,_ its voice was sickly sweet.

“Never,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving Emma's. She paid little attention to the happenings around the room. Clara had taken Emma's hand, calling the girls name, the Doctor stood still, confusion evident in his eyes. He muttered to himself, stepping away from the group, his eyes drifting passed the women who stood transfixed beside him. The Creature soon turned away from the group, leaving the gloomy house to sit inside the TARDIS. She plopped down, leaning back against the counsel. She was weak, oh so very weak, and her days were numbered.  
_________________________________  
She came out of the memory like one emerging from murky water. The walls of her head thudded to the beat of her heart. She groaned and reached blindly for something to pull herself up from the floor. The room was dark, and for that she was thankful. She felt the arm of the couch, and heavily pulled herself on top of the cushions. The memory replayed listlessly through her head, recalling the song that even now echoed in the far off distance in her mind. She shuddered.  
Fade away....  
The memory was a warning. She was possessed by a demon who wanted to enslave her mind and soul, and no other could offer a chance to give her the freedom she craved. It would not let her forget how drawn she was to the darkness, and how close she was coming to be consumed by it.


End file.
